


Real Tomorrows

by agenderalien (rainbowballz)



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 18:20:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5508005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowballz/pseuds/agenderalien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had been through too much today, and most of it was as real as Quark’s holosuite programs, so why on earth did he feel so heavy, so worn? Where was sweet relief?</p><p>It was buried under the vision of Garak dying, is where it was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Real Tomorrows

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after the events of The Search part 1 and 2, which are episodes 1 and 2 of season 3. If you haven't watched this far, this oneshot might seem a little confusing. But if you have, then you wondered just how seeing Garak die was for Julian, even if it was just an illusion. 
> 
> Not super happy with the title, but I wrote this for fun and couldn't be pissed to waste more time thinking up another one. 
> 
> Also, why do I only churn out fluff for these two? It is because they have been hurt enough. That's why. And I'm also a weak gay sap.

Julian considered himself a very emotionally well rounded person. Being a doctor in Starfleet required as much. Keeping his feelings in check was all a part of the job - patients die, after all. Friends die. He could, in fact, die on a mission someday, and these were things he always had to be prepared for. Deep Space Nine was a Federation station in Bajoran space on precarious ground with the Cardassians on the receiving end of a massive wormhole. Danger was a part of everyday life.

Even before Kira and Odo returned from the runabout to explain what had happened after being caught by the Dominion, Julian had already began to break down the experience, to compartmentalize it. Everything he just saw? A simulation. A test. False, all of it. Nothing that happened actually happened - the treaty between the Federation and the Dominion, his reassignment, committing treason against the Federation, collapsing the wormhole.

Garak, dying.

Julian closed his eyes, propped his elbow against the terminal and pressed his face into his hand. The runabout was silent as they traveled home; everyone taking the time to process everything they had seen, everything they had done in the Dominion’s cruel experiment. 

Logically, he understood it was not real. But it played in his mind, over and over again, from beginning to end, and he remembered it all so very clearly, every sensation, every feeling, as if it were. He lowered his hand and looked at each of his colleagues in their distant, weary faces, and knew that he was not the only one who was struggling. 

It was difficult, but Julian had been through worse, he told himself, and since it all was an illusion, was there any reason to be genuinely upset about it? He shook his shoulders, took a deep breath, and willed it all away as he exhaled. He found a sliver of calm just for a moment, and then Garak filled up that space - Garak, shot. Garak, dying. 

Garak. Dead.

Heavens, he felt ill. Julian leaned back in his chair and tried to breathe, told himself repeatedly that Garak was not dead, he hadn’t died, he was back on the station safe and sound and very much alive. The relief just wouldn’t stick. He saw it with his own two eyes, felt that unimaginable loss and pain, and it made him feel so hollow. 

Get it together, Julian, he demanded of himself, and for the remainder of the journey he focused on absolutely anything else - helping navigate, checking on the others with the runabout’s measly medical kit, and by the time they had traveled back through the wormhole and Deep Space Nine was in their sights, Julian felt like he had gotten himself under control. Fake or not, it had been some noteworthy trauma, and a momentary relapse was to be expected, after all. 

When they stepped out of the runabout, back into the relative safety of the station, and Sisko dismissed them, they all heaved a unified sigh of relief. He wondered if perhaps he should insist on the group returning to the infirmary for a more thorough inspection - who knows what kind of drugs the Dominion used to keep them sedated - but after examining each of their faces, he knew that what they needed was rest. 

His quarters. A nice, long, hot shower. His bed. That was the perfect remedy after a day of being captured by the Dominion and forced to endure a harrowing, if false, experience. He hoped that in the morning it would all seem fuzzy and faraway, like a dream, and eventually he could forget about all the details -

\- like the sound Garak made when he was shot. How he crumpled as if he were made of tissue paper against the wall. The smell of his blood. His last words. The light fading out of his very blue, very frightened eyes -

Julian cringed. He walked quickly with his head down as he weaved through the thinning evening crowd in the Promenade. It was late. He was tired. He had been through too much today, and most of it was as real as Quark’s holosuite programs, so why on earth did he feel so heavy, so worn? Where was sweet relief?

It was buried under the vision of Garak dying, is where it was.

He paused outside of Quark’s and wondered if perhaps he needed a drink. He deserved it, didn’t he? Julian turned to look through the entrance to the bar, the only establishment open at this hour, and it was decently busy, and maybe all of the commotion would help tune out his thoughts, maybe a good, frothy beer would settle his anxieties enough that when he did eventually go to bed, he’d drift off with no nightmares at all -

“Doctor?”

Julian turned automatically at his title and felt his knees begin to transform from solid to liquid. 

Garak stood just a few feet away and observed him with an expression that was wholly concerned, with maybe a touch of relief. “I heard that you had finally returned to the station,” he said, and Julian wondered how he could have found that out so quickly, or if he was monitoring the station’s receiving logs, and if so, was Garak even allowed to have access to that information, and who even cares because he’s right there, alive, right in front of him, and he had come looking for him because he was worried, because he missed him. Julian could see that plain as day on his face and unlike the simulation, it was real.

This Garak was real. This Garak had not died.

Julian’s emotions were not in check, he realized, a moment after he took two long steps and swung his arms around the Cardassian’s neck and crushed him to his chest. On the contrary, actually, because he was suddenly shaking so hard he was surprised he was still standing, and he supposed that if Garak’s arms hadn’t moved tentatively around his waist to hold him up perhaps he wouldn’t be, and his eyes burned and - God, was he really beginning to cry?

Garak was tense with surprise and confusion in his arms. Julian tried to remind himself that Garak had not seen him in days, that he had yet to say a word of explanation, that they were in the middle of the Promenade outside Quark’s and this hug was more affection than they had ever showed for one another, but Julian didn’t care - Julian had watched Garak die and he could think of nothing worse.

When, exactly, did that happen?

“You’re alive,” Julian said, his mouth below Garak’s ear. The raised scales of Garak’s skin were cool against his lips. He smelled of a Cardassian cologne that Julian didn’t know the name of. “Thank god, you’re alive.”

“I was not aware my status on that had changed.” Garak’s hands finally shifted on Julian’s sides, carefully detangling the doctor’s arms from his neck and forcing him to step back so their eyes could meet, and Julian didn’t care that Garak was watching him like he’d just lost his mind, because he wasn’t watching the life drain out of them. “Are you alright?”

“I am now.” Julian shook his head slowly, taking Garak’s hands in both of his own and squeezing them. Surprisingly, he didn’t feel foolish at all. Finally, he had been blessed with relief. “I have had the most terrible mission and I cannot express to you how it feels to see you safe, Garak.”

Garak’s mouth parted, speechless, and Julian guessed there was a first time for everything. “Doctor,” Garak managed after a moment, his ridged brows drawing together with deep worry. “Are you … crying?”

“No,” Julian lied, and used a knuckle to run under his eye. 

At that, Garak smiled, and it wasn’t teasing at all, but as gentle as Julian had ever seen him. “Whatever you went through, it must have been very painful.” He leaned away so he could give Julian a once over, head to toe. “If your dirty uniform is anything to go by.”

Julian laughed. He realized he was still holding one of Garak’s hands in his own, very cool and solid and real, and with his cheeks burning with embarrassment he loosened his hold to release him, but the Cardassian apparently would have none of it. In fact, Garak held on more tightly, their joined hands held between their chests like they were about to start a dance. 

Weren’t they always in some kind of dance with each other?

“I apologize,” Julian said, his voice low, and he couldn’t hold Garak’s eyes when he spoke. “For my outburst. I usually pride myself on keeping my emotions under control.” He glanced around the mostly empty Promenade. “Especially in public.”

“Nonsense. I am flattered that you were so excited to see me.” Garak’s smile drew Julian’s eyes again. “I share your relief, anyway.”

“Do you?” Julian inclined his head and hoped that the climb in his pulse wasn’t as visible as it felt.

“Of course, Doctor. Every time you leave this station, well.” Garak looked at their hands and gave Julian’s fingers a squeeze. “It takes all of my finely tuned self restraint not to drag you back here, where I know you are safe.”

Julian blinked in surprise. Over a year of lunch together and neither of them, not once, had talked about the elephant in the room, and maybe this wasn’t the best place, it wasn’t private or romantic or anything that Julian imagined it might be, but it was real, and if Julian was grateful for anything after that horrid simulation, it was that his feelings were real.

“I saw you die.” The words fall out of his mouth before he can think to trap them. “It’s a long story - the Dominion captured us and put us through an experiment to see what we would do if they tried to take over and it was awful, everything was awful, and then I watched you die.”

“How?”

Julian glanced up. “Pardon?”

Garak raised his brows. “How did I die?”

Julian wasn’t sure if he should share that information - he wasn’t sure if he should have shared any of this, honestly. The lights above them started to dim, signaling the approaching closing of the Promenade. “You were shot,” Julian said, and the words tasted bitter on his tongue. “Helping me - helping us escape.”

Garak smiled briefly, amused. “Well, Doctor, not to sound too self righteous, but it does not seem like the worst way to go.”

“What? You were shot, it was horrible, I watched the life slip right out of you while you hung on in my arms -”

“I mean that if I died saving you, my dear, then it would not be so bad.”

Julian flushed. Well, if he ever had doubts before, that certainly cleared things up a bit. He looked at their hands again, still clasped tightly together, and then to Garak’s eyes, sharp as cobalt.

“You came all the way down here to find me,” Julian said. He brought their joined hands down to their sides, shifted his fingers until Garak parted his own so he could fill the spaces between them. 

“I’ve only been mildly obsessing over the station’s boarding logs.”

“I knew it.” Julian grinned.

Garak shrugged. “When you insist on running headfirst into danger, what else am I to do?” He finally withdrew his hand - but only to wind it around Julian’s waist so he could start leading him out of the Promenade. “Now, perhaps it is my turn to start fussing over your health, my good Doctor. You need rest. And a shower.”

“Am I really that bad?”

“Filthy, darling.”

Darling. Julian’s poor heart could just barely take it, after everything else it had endured that day. Garak brought Julian all the way to his quarters and they did so in comfortable silence, Garak’s hand on the small of his back. When they reached his door, Julian faced Garak again, cheeks very warm. 

“Stay,” he said, before he could think too long, before he could talk himself out of it.

Garak smiled. “Not tonight, my dear. I meant it when I said you needed rest.” When Julian’s face began to fall, Garak continued, “and if I stay, you will not get much of it.”

Oh. Julian’s skin darkened with a blush, he stuttered, trying to say something, absolutely anything to maintain his cool, but he was more flustered than he could ever remember being, and is this what it felt like to be wooed? He was rarely on the receiving end, and God, this was embarrassing, is this what he had been putting people through all these years? It’s like he had completely forgotten how his mouth even worked -

Garak reminded him by kissing him, a hand cradled gently against his cheek. Julian made a soft sound that Garak drank in.

“I am glad you are safe, as well,” Garak whispered when he pulled away, and he sounded just a bit breathless, which made Julian feel a little less self conscious about panting very heavily. “And I promise that I will do everything in my power to make sure that what you saw in that simulation does not become a reality, if you promise to do the same for yourself.”

“I’m a Starfleet officer,” Julian said, and he recalled a conversation he had with Miles when they were trapped in the T’Lani system. It’s not fair to them, he had said, referring to marriage, to the spouses of Starfleet officers. Their lives are always in danger. They could die any day.

Garak’s face was blank. “I’m sorry, were you going somewhere with that? Because if we are stating the obvious then, yes, you are a Starfleet officer, I am a Cardassian tailor, this is very dull conversation -”

“You know what I mean.” Julian leaned his shoulder against his door, twisted his hands in front of him. “I have a risky job.”

“I am aware.” Garak frowned. “You make it sound as if I do not live in considerable risk, myself. You do know the rumors about me, Doctor?”

Julian perked. “Are they true?”

“Ah. I am not that easy.”

“Aren’t you?” Julian’s hand hovered at Garak’s hip, and something flashed in the Cardassian’s eyes - a thought, a desire, and Julian waited with bated breath for Garak to do something, to pin him to the wall, to shove him into his quarters, but Garak collected himself quite impressively, blinked slowly, and took the doctor by the wrist. 

“Not tonight,” Garak insisted, again, though he seemed less firm about it this time. “Get some sleep. There is always tomorrow.”

He was right, today. Julian hoped there was always a tomorrow for them. All of them real.

But Julian kissed him goodnight, one more time, just in case.


End file.
